Dead silence. Then applause.
"Kid," started a stout man sitting at the center of the table as he struggled to stand, "let me be the first to say you've got talent. Or 'mad skill,' as I'm sure you would put it."
Several others nodded in agreement.
"Thanks, dud- uh, sir," a small six-year-old boy decked out in a backwards baseball cap, baggy pants, and ostentatious bling answered politely.
From the other side of the room, his father flashed him two thumbs up, and he smiled in return.
"Oh, isn't he adorable?" crooned a woman in red at the end of the large mahogany table.
The boy's smile froze. Gangstas weren't "adorable." They were macho, they were tough, they were-
His dad's warning look silenced any other thoughts. If this was the price to pay for being a gangsta just out of pull-ups, then he would just have to suffer through it. That was the danger of being an artist – you could be so easily misunderstood.
"I have to say," another man began, "we're all very impressed by your many skills. Singing, dancing, charisma – you're quite the little performer there. You've obviously inherited your mother's talent."
Even with his father standing so far away, he couldn't help noticing Broderick's expression fall. Just a little.
He shrugged modestly, just as he'd seen his mother do countless times before. "It's nothing, sir. But actually, it was my dad who-"
"Oh, he's even modest too!" the same woman cut in, looking as though she was just dying to eat the little boy up, which quite frankly, scared him a lot.
"So, what do you say?" the man in charge interjected before the woman could continue. "Should we take on this little gangsta with our record company?"
"I'm a yes. Definite yes," affirmed the lady who was beginning to frighten Jonah more and more by the second.
"Brilliant," the man responded. "Brian?"
"Absolutely," the brown-haired man with movie-star looks sitting beside him confirmed. "If he's this talented at six, what do you think will happen when he's ten? Fifteen even? He's got superstar written all over him."
"That's three yeses out of four," the balding man remarked as he began to wipe a handkerchief over his perspiring forehead. "That leaves just one." He glanced at the silent man at the far left of the table. "AJ?"
An African-American man in a business suit and tie, who had been watching the entire scene play out in conspicuous silence, leaned back in his chair and began to study Jonah with a keen eye. Jonah swallowed hard, forcing out his most convincing smile, as his eyes flickered towards his father's face, which was every bit as nervous as his own.
AJ placed his chin in one hand, seemingly lost in thought, before letting out a sigh and leaning forward again. "Jonah, you have a gift. I can't deny it – you're extremely talented, especially for your age. I can't say the 'gangsta' look particularly appeals to me on a six-year-old, but what can I say? Everyone else seems to love it. Besides that, though, I can see you have plenty of potential. And the crowds will definitely love a kid who can dance like Michael Jackson."
He held his breath, not even daring to breathe, as he waited for the final verdict.
"So, I take that as a yes?" the balding man prodded somewhat impatiently.
"Sure," AJ responded with a shrug as he leaned back begrudgingly in his chair.
"All right, then," the man in charge immediately responded, beaming radiantly at Jonah. "I'm pleased to say that we're in business, young man. Congratulations."
Finally exhaling, with a grin the size of Texas instantly spreading across his face, he glanced back at his father and could see the same ecstatic expression mirrored on Broderick's own.
"Thanks, dude!"
Whoops.
Jonah blushed slightly and glanced down at his pimped-out shoes. "I-I mean, uh, thanks, si-"
The man laughed. "Don't worry about it, son. Gangster slang is the new wave of the future, and you are the perfect person to act as its leading pioneer."
Jonah's face contorted into a mass of confusion. "Pioneer?"
The man smiled. "Yes, that means you'll be the person who gets everyone else to talk like you. It will be part of your image, going along with all that." He pointed to Jonah's rapping outfit. "They're fresh, new, and will certainly make Jonah Wizard a worldwide name."
Jonah's eyes lit up hungrily. "Really?"
"Absolutely, son. You're going places; we're making sure of it."
The judges were standing up, preparing to shake his hand and congratulate him, ecstatic smiles plastered across their faces, with one striking exception. AJ was pushing back his chair, rolling his eyes slightly – no doubt in annoyance over his boss's plan to take Jonah's rapping attitude to a whole new level – and paying little attention to the newly-discovered star whatsoever.
The balding man extended his hand out to Jonah as he tentatively approached their large table, which easily towered over the shrimp of a boy. "Congratulations, son," he repeated, giving the miniature hand a firm shake, causing Jonah's arm to bob up and down violently.
Jonah attempted valiantly to smile, despite the fact that his whole upper body was being shaken mercilessly, as he desperately waited for the congratulations to come to a close. He may have had extraordinary skills for one so small, but still, there was only so much his poor arm could take.
Thankfully, however, the man's excruciatingly long handshake finally seemed to be coming to a close as he began to pull his hand away. Jonah's arm fell limply to his side, and he had to desperately fight the urge to rub it protectively. But much to his disappointment, instead of letting him move on to the next person in line, the man reached out and gave him a stiff pat on the head, causing his baseball cap to slide down over his eyes.
"Oh, how adorable!"
Great. Just great.
Adorable, humiliated, and now blind – this was truly not his best day in the gangsta department.
He reached up, attempting to lift the overly-large black baseball cap with rhinestones off his face, when he felt it being suddenly raised off his forehead by someone else. He glanced up, finding his father standing directly behind him and subtly reposition the cap on his head.
Broderick to the rescue.
Silently, his father extended his balled fist, below the judge's line of vision of course, but exactly where Jonah could see it. He flashed his father a dazzling smile and gave it a light bump. Just the reassurance he needed.
"So, Mr. Wizard," the woman began, not directly looking at him, but instead delicately prying her cup of coffee off the table, "you must be so proud." She flashed him a brilliant smile.
"I am," Broderick replied, the delight in his voice clearly imminent as he gave his son's shoulders a light squeeze.
Jonah looked up, lifting his head backwards to catch a glimpse of his father's face towering over him, accidently causing his baseball cap to tumble onto the ground at Broderick's feet.
AJ gave the pair a skeptical glance as Broderick leaned over to retrieve Jonah's discarded hat off the floor. "How long has Jonah been in this business again?"
Broderick stood up again, pulling himself to his full height as he dusted the cap off. "Since he was three months old. It was a diaper commercial," he quickly added as AJ's eyebrows shot up.
"And he's been in showbiz ever since?" the man continued to prod.
"It's all right here, AJ," Brian remarked condescendingly as he passed the much taller man a piece of paper. "The kid's got a longer resume than you."
The man gave the paper a quick once over. "Baby food commercials, sitcom appearances, Michael Jackson music video…" His voice trailed off. "Well. I can see he's an extremely accomplished young man. But," he added, giving the balding man a questioning look, "what exactly are we going to do with him? I mean, he's six. Sure, he'll entertain a crowd, but how on earth will a six-year-old pull a hit single? That's younger than any kid I've ever-"
"We'll figure something out, AJ," the man responded impatiently, waving him off. "It won't be hard to think of something for someone as multi-talented as him."
"He's also a songwriter," Broderick threw in as he adjusted the cap back on Jonah's head.
"See?" the man exclaimed. "Just like Mozart, only this one's a rapper."
AJ raised an eyebrow.
"He'll be our modern-day rapping Mozart," the man finished, a grand smile spreading across his face at the genius of his suggestion. "It's perfect."
Brian and the woman nodded in agreement, but AJ remained motionless. "Look," AJ put in, "I think we should at least… discuss this a little more." He glanced at Jonah and Broderick. "In private."
The man rolled his eyes and let out an overly-dramatic sigh. "Fine, AJ. I don't know what else there is to discuss, but whatever it is, I guess I'll be hearing it whether I want to or not." He flashed the Wizards an apologetic smile. "If you'll just wait here a moment."
Broderick nodded amenably as the four judges made their way into the hallway, leaving the two alone in silence.
Immediately, Jonah turned to his father. "I did good, Dad?"
Broderick's smile widened almost all the way to his ears. "You didn't do good, Jonah. You did amazing."
Jonah grinned up at his father, his baseball cap slipping backwards again, although this time he managed to catch it with one hand before it could fall to the ground. "So does this mean we get to go for ice cream after?" he asked hopefully, giving his father his best puppy-dog look.
Broderick laughed, a deep, rich sound, as he picked up Jonah and swung him onto his shoulders. "I think we should go for more than just ice cream, ma little hommie. What do you say to ice cream and pizza?"
"Yeah!" Jonah exclaimed, pumping his fist into the air victoriously. He looked down into his father's eyes, his cap sliding down into his face again. "Can Mom come, too?" he asked expectantly, impatiently pushing the annoying hat back.
Even without seeing his father's expression, he could feel his shoulders sag slightly underneath of him. "I don't know, Jonah. She's awfully busy."
"Oh. Okay."
They were silent for another moment, staring aimlessly at the white-washed walls of the almost-bare auditioning room.
"Dad?"
"Mmm?"
"If Mom was here, do you think she'd be proud of me too?"
For a moment, Broderick was silent before he reached back and swung Jonah to face him in the front. He smiled fondly at his son, a look, one resembling something akin to sadness, lingering in the back of his eyes. "Jonah, if she was here, I know she would have been blown away by your out-of-this world performance."
Jonah looked deeply into his father's eyes. "Really?"
"Really."
A grin escaped from him, and reached towards his father, wrapping his neck in a tight embrace. Broderick's arms tightened around his son, remaining that way until the sudden sound of footsteps interrupted them. Quickly, Broderick plucked his son from off his neck and placed him on the ground, straightening his baseball cap just as the judges began to reemerge from the hallway.
"Well, Broderick," the man in charge announced, showing no signs of having witnessed their display of familial affection, "we're on. And I'm going to be needing you to discuss a few things and signing a few contracts in my office, if you please."
"Of course, Mr. Abernathy," Broderick responded dutifully with one hand placed on Jonah's shoulder.
"Please, Mr. Abernathy is my father," the man remarked with a laugh. "Call me Warren."
"Yes, of course, Mr. – uh, Warren," Broderick answered somewhat awkwardly.
"Right this way then, Broderick," Warren commanded with the authority of a seasoned professional, waving the man into the hallway before turning back to his employees. "And AJ, show Jonah to the waiting room we have. Keep him occupied."
AJ nodded reluctantly, Brian sending him an almost-unnoticeable smirk as he did, while Warren sent him a warning look.
"Enjoy yourself now, Jonah. Make yourself at home," he offered cheerfully as he took a step into the hallway. "Just don't get into trouble!"
With that, he, Broderick, and Brian disappeared out the door, leaving Jonah alone with AJ and the scary lady in the near-empty room. There were a few mirrors lined up along the side, a state-of-the art sound system, and a few other miscellaneous items besides the large table and chairs for auditions, but other than that, the room was completely bare.
"Well," AJ began awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck slightly, "why don't we go find something for you to do? That sound good, Jonah?"
Jonah nodded shyly.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, AJ! You do not know how to handle children!" She sighed, one hand placed on her hip, as she gave AJ a steely glare. Rolling her eyes, she turned to Jonah. "Come on, sweetie. Let's go find something for you to play with, okay, darling?"
Jonah managed a weak smile.
"Aww, you are just too cute, young man!" she admonished as she grabbed his hand and began to drag him along. "I just want to eat you up!"
Jonah looked back helplessly at AJ, who gave him a slightly apologetic smile as he trailed behind them.
The woman led him out the hallway, past new-age paintings and a few sofas and elevators, before bringing him to a small area filled with children's toys - pitiful racecar tracks, toy trains, and several electronic toys that would make animals sounds when someone hit their buttons. There was also a child's xylophone, if Jonah wasn't mistaken.
"Now, here you go, sweetie," she said, bending over so that she was at eye-level with him. "You just stay here and have fun with these little toys, okay?"
Jonah nodded shyly.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, giving AJ a "isn't he so cute?" smile over her shoulder. "I could just eat you up!" She reached over and pinched his cheek before standing back up and turning to AJ. "See? That is how you handle kids."
AJ gave her a skeptical glance before glancing back at Jonah, who was rubbing his sore cheek with a petrified look plastered across his face. "Uh-huh. You know," he started, directing her attention towards anything other than the poor kid who had already suffered enough under her direction, "I really think we should be getting back to the lounge now. Who knows what kind of trouble Brian is getting himself into down there."
The woman flipped her hair. "I suppose you're right." She turned back to face Jonah. "Bye-bye, sweetie. And remember, stay out of trouble!" She gave him a wave before both she and AJ disappeared down the hallway.
Finally alone – and quite relieved about it, too- Jonah turned to face what was to be the source of his entertainment for the next who-knows-how long. He was used to this kind of thing – Broderick often had to spend an hour or so in an office working out the details of Jonah's latest contract. Sometimes there was a TV to entertain him, other times all he had were magazines with pictures of cars that Jonah could imagine himself having someday, but this, of all things, was probably the most boring looking stuff he had ever been left with in his entire life. It was a bit disappointing, really. This was his biggest gig yet, and they didn't even bother to give him some half-decent entertainment.
He sighed, figuring that it was at least worth a shot. Carefully stretching out his finger, he gave the colourful xylophone a small tap on one of its red keys, visibly wincing as the pathetic melody resonated through the kid's play area.
This was terrible. He could play piano, drums, a child's bass, along with several other instruments, and here, they were expecting him to be entertained with some out-of-tune xylophone? This was pathetic.
The man had called him a modern-day rapping Mozart, which Jonah had been thrilled about, seeing as the man was one of his greatest heroes – and relatives – but this was just plain insulting. Had Mozart ever had to work with second-rate material?
Bored before even getting started, Jonah's gaze wandered towards the hallway where AJ and the freaky lady had disappeared barely a minute before. Wherever they were, it was bound to be better than this.
And so quickly, without a thought of what anyone might think about him running off, he began to wander in the direction of his previous "babysitters." Turning down the first hallway, his highly-sensitive ears caught wind of a sound coming from somewhere farther down. He took a few tentative steps, every one allowing him to hear more and more, before he could fully locate the source of the noise.
There, a few rooms down, was one with its door wide open and light streaming through onto the outside carpet. Laughter emanated from somewhere inside, along with a voice that sounded rather angry.
Quickly, Jonah made his way as stealthily as possible with his noisy bling clanging against each other towards the side of the door. Pressing his back against the wall right next to it, just like in every spy movie he'd ever watched, he cautiously poked his head around the corner ever-so-slightly, just as he could hear the words "Don't… the boy" being spoken.
The three people who had watched him perform were in the room, a very nice room, if Jonah did say so himself. Plush wall-to-wall carpeting, a mini-bar, hanging T.V., along with several comfortable looking chairs and sofas decorated the room. Even a few autographed album covers of some of the company's biggest labels lined the walls. One particular empty space right beside the window caught Jonah's eye. It would be the perfect place for his future album to go.
A sudden voice caught Jonah's attention, startling him out of his thoughts, and he turned his attention back to the conversation that was already well on its way.
"Oh, we know why, AJ," the man named Brian remarked with a roll of his eyes as he reached into the mini-bar and pulled out a Coke.
"It's because he's Cora's son," the woman finished for him.
AJ let out an exasperated sigh as he unbuttoned his black jacket and tossed it towards the distant coat rack. Jonah's eyes widened in surprise as it executed a perfect landing.
"Look," AJ started, leaning nonchalantly against a window frame while loosening his tie, "I have absolutely nothing against the kid. Or Cora." He shot a sharp look in Brian's direction.
The man simply rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."
AJ lifted his arms in frustration. "What? She may not be my favorite person, but I don't hate her." He snatched Brian's coke swiftly out of his hand with the moves of seasoned basketball player and took a long swig, much to Brian's chagrin. "I certainly wouldn't hold any past grievances I may have with Cora against her kid. I'm better than that."
"Well, how could you? He's adorable!"
From his position behind the wall, Jonah winced. Again. Just how much more was his gangsta pride going to have to suffer today?
"For now," AJ agreed before taking another sip of his stolen soda.
"Oh, so that's it then," Brian remarked with a smirk as he swiped back his half-empty Coke can from AJ's grasp.
"What's it?" AJ asked questioningly, giving his mouth another wipe with the back of his hand.
"You think that in a few years the kid will lose his edge and become like all those other forgotten childhood celebrities." He put the container to his mouth, only to find it devoid of anything but a few drops. Frowning, he lowered the can from his lips, crushing it between his hands before tossing it into a nearby garbage can. "Well, don't worry about it. Old Warren's got it covered. The kid won't become forgettable anytime soon. And besides," he added with a smirk as he reached for a new soda, "he is Cora Wizard's son. She'll make sure he remains unforgettable."
"No," AJ admonished, "that's not what bothers me. In fact, it's the exact opposite."
Brian froze with his new can of Pepsi poised directly against his lips. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, he's going to be too unforgettable."
The red lady glanced up at him from her herbal tea. "And that's bad because…?"
"Because he's going to turn into another one of those messed up, egocentric celebrity brats that needs a humility pill." He lowered his voice considerably. "In other words, he's going to end up every bit as cold and proud as Cora, even if he doesn't end up in some rehab facility."
The woman and Brian exchanged an apprehensive glance. "Oh, come on, AJ. You don't really think that-"
"Quite frankly, I don't know what to think anymore." AJ turned to stare out the window, resting one arm against its frame. "All I keep remembering is that seventeen-year-old girl in foster care with her guitar and the voice of an angel that we turned away. Why?" He turned to face them. "Because her mom isn't Cora Wizard. Face it, you two, that's the real reason we chose him. I'm not denying he has talent, but I'm just willing to recognize what no one else wants to admit. His mother has power, connections, her own fanbase – he's the obvious step from there."
"So you're saying we should have chosen a complete nobody instead?" Brian inquired sarcastically.
AJ narrowed his eyes. "What I'm trying to say is that when we look for talent, maybe we should consider the ones with no background, the ones you'd call nobodies. If you recall, Brian, those are often the ones with the most to offer."
Brian blushed slightly and looked down.
"And this kid – he's only six, with plenty of time left and lots to learn, and already, they're trying to turn him into a mini-Will Smith. Yes, he's got the potential to be a superstar, but he doesn't have to work for it. He's got the right connections, and everything else falls into place." He whirled around, staring them both in the eye. "Frankly, I have no idea what Warren or Cora or any of these people are going to do to this kid, who should still be in preschool, but all I can say is this: Don't expect me to stand around and watch."
With that, he marched directly across the room, past chairs and a mini-microwave, grabbed his jacket, and headed straight out the door, leaving Brian and the lady staring after him with mouths gaping wide open.
As soon as he heard the footsteps approaching, Jonah immediately dived into the nearest doorway, curling himself into a ball in order to make himself less visible.
The man, too lost in his own thoughts to stare anywhere but straight ahead, walked right past him without a single glance in his direction. He let out a sigh of relief, although he didn't dare to move until he was certain the footsteps had completely faded away.
They echoed for what seemed like an eternity to his impatient six-year-old self, and as soon as they disappeared, he bolted upright. Hiding was fun, but only up to a point. Only if someone was looking for him.
Carefully, he peeked around the corner, ensuring that no one – not Broderick, not Brian, and definitely not that evil cheek-pincher – was waiting for him in the hallway. Seeing that they weren't, Jonah quickly slipped back towards the play area that he hadn't been supposed to leave in the first place. If he made it back in time, they wouldn't even realize he had left.
With his tiny heart racing at a million miles per hour and his shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor, he was sure someone must have heard him as he ran past all those doors, brightly-painted portraits, and gaping windows. Glancing back nervously to ensure no one had followed him, Jonah took a hesitant step backwards, accidently tripping on a misplaced toy car and sprawling on the floor below. Rolling to his side, he pushed himself off the ground, giving the car a slight kick as he did, and got to his feet.
Stupid car.
He stared down at the ugly orange thing, giving it the evil eye, before it suddenly struck him that his hat had fallen off. Again.
With a sigh, he turned to his left and began to scour the toy-cluttered floor for that annoying baseball cap. If this was what it was like to be a gangsta, then it was a lot of work.
Suddenly catching sight of the glittering rhinestones, he immediately got to his knees, attempting to pick it back up again, but something stopped him short.
W
The letter, spelled out in glittering green, was one of two that he knew very, very well. The colour was flashy, brilliant, and definitely eye-catching. All too well, he knew what it was supposed to represent.
Wizard.
But which one?
There was his father, Broderick Wizard, and of course his mother, Cora. They were both Wizards, too, right? He wasn't the only one. The only Jonah, yes, but the only Wizard? Definitely not.
So why didn't the cap say JW?
AJ's words, along with his conversation with Brian and the lady in red, echoed in his head. Not a whole lot of it had made any sense to him, but seeing as he had practically been born into the entertainment industry, he had been able to pick up more than most his age would.
Face it, you two, that's the real reason we chose him.
Not because he had talent, but because his mother was Cora Wizard. That's what AJ had said. Jonah had managed to pick at least that much up.
But that couldn't be true, could it?
They had told him he had talent, and he knew that was true. He had been born with talent. After all, he was a Janus. It was simply something no Janus was born without. No talent, no Janus. That's what Mom had always told him.
So if he had talent, then why was that guy AJ so upset?
All I keep remembering is that seventeen-year-old girl in foster care with her guitar and the voice of an angel that we turned away. Why?
Because her mom isn't Cora Wizard.
And suddenly, it all fell into place.
He had talent, and lots of it, too, but that alone wasn't enough to make you a star in Hollywood. Just like his mother had always told him, there were plenty of stars in this world, but only the best and the brightest could truly shine for all the world to see.
Only some stars would really have the chance to shine, and many of them never did. What AJ thought was that he was a star, but not a star in his own right. Instead of finding a way to shine on his own, he was like an electrical star, having someone help him out by giving him a boost and plugging him in to an electrical outlet.
He wasn't his own star; he was Cora's baby star.
Angrily, Jonah forced the thoughts away. That wasn't true. Yes, he had gotten his talent from his mom and dad, but no, they weren't the reason he was going to be powerful and famous. That was all his doing.
Staring at his baseball cap, he frowned. It wasn't right. It needed more than just "W." It needed something to make it clear to everyone that this was Jonah Wizard's hat. Not Cora's.
Looking around desperately, he caught sight of a set of discarded markers scattered around the play area - on chairs, the drawing table, and all over the floor. He stood up, the cap in one hand, and began to examine each marker.
Red. Nope. That's Lucian.
Blue. No way! Not those Tomas.
Black? I don't know what that is, but I don't want it.
Long and hard he searched, even getting on his hands in knees on the marker-stained white linoleum, determined to find just the right marker. And finally, after digging his hand into a box of toys, he reemerged with his precious green marker. His symbol of Janus creativity.
Carefully, he placed the hat on the drawing table and pulled the cap off the marker. With as steady a hand as he could manage, he lined up the marker directly beside the "W" and began to create the first letter he had ever learned how to write.
JW
Perfect.
Now it was right. This hat was all his, no one else's. And so was his talent.
With satisfaction, he surveyed his work. Not as pretty as the rhinestones, but it would have to do. For now.
After placing the cap back on the lid (after all, all good artists cleaned up their messes), he took his newly-decorated gangsta hat and placed it back on top of his head.
Jonah Wizard. Now nobody could ever mistake him for anything other than that.
"You ready to go, bud?"
He glanced up, suddenly startled out of his thoughts. Nodding vigorously, eager to get away from this place that didn't seem quite as new and exciting anymore, he ran towards his father, taking his place compliantly at Broderick's side.
"Our meeting went well, Jonah," Broderick announced cheerfully. "This one was pretty short, but Warren said that-"
Jonah nodded absentmindedly, tuning out all the formal mumbo-jumbo that he really didn't understand anyway, as they proceeded towards the elevator beside the auditioning room. The wheels were, after all, still rapidly rotating in his own head.
He wasn't just Wizard anymore, so that had to count for something. Now he was Jonah Wizard – JW. It even said so on his baseball cap, even if the "W" was still prettier and flashier than the "J." But that would change.
He would make sure of that.
If he had anything to do with it, he was going to be the best dancing rapper with the best smile, coolest clothes, and fastest car. People everywhere would see his face plastered on magazines, pillows, and posters all over the world.
Why?
Not because of Cora Wizard, that was for sure. Every picture he was in, every autograph he gave – they would be because of his talent. When he was in front of his audience, or writing his songs, or playing his music, he would do it from the bottom of his heart. He would give it his all. Because AJ was wrong. He did have to work for what he got. Harder than all the others, even. After all, a nobody who became famous had nothing to prove. But he did.
And no matter what it took, he was determined to make the world believe what he already knew.
His claim to fame was all his own.
My first Jonah!fic. I quite enjoy writing with him, I have to say.
I did make a slight change to his age (changed it from four to six), simply to make his maturity seem more normal. I also made him a bit more grown-up than a lot of kids his age when it came to understanding the adults' conversation about the entertainment business and knowing how to schmooze with them because I'd think growing up in such a world he'd be very familiar with that sort of thing.
In any case, I hope it was an enjoyable read, and I want to thank you for taking the time to read such an incredibly long story. :)